It Could Happen
by scared of clouds
Summary: A collection of my AU Jily drabbles, all written from prompts submitted on Tumblr. Rated M overall, but each drabble will have an individual rating. Cover art by Burdge.
1. The Importance Of Shoes

**A couple of quick things:**

** 1) I have a quite few of these drabbles already done so expect a sudden splurge of updates for this; I'm sorry if your inboxes get spammed with notifications if you're following me. **

**2) Each of these is pretty different in style, theme, etc, and they are totally unconnected to each other so you do not have to read them all. **

**3) Reviews would be appreciated, since at least a couple of these are almost certainly going to become full length fics and more may do so if I believe there is enough interest. **

**4) I take prompts over on Tumblr, though I can't say I'm fast to get to them, so if anyone has something they'd particularly like to see written, you can drop me a message and I'll almost certainly give it a try. I do write canon based drabbles too, and will start a new story to post those over here shortly. **

**That's it I think, on with the random assortment of ficlets!**

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**Prompt: Fairytale AU  
**

**Rating: T**

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'Right then, so you all know what you're doing?' James stopped pacing and looked expectantly at his three closest friends, all of whom were looking back at him with what could only be described as concerned expressions. He raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands in an anxious gesture. 'Well?'

'We know what we're doing James…' Remus began slowly. 'It's just….' He looked at the others for help, and Peter piped up from the corner armchair.

'It's just that we aren't sure this is the best idea you've ever had to be honest.'

'What? It's genius!' James looked genuinely shocked at the very thought that his plan might not be as ingenious as he thought. 'What's wrong with it?'

'Well, for a start one doesn't traditionally begin a relationship by _trapping _the object of one's affections.' Sirius' voice was a slow drawl, his tone utterly unbothered as he lounged on the padded window seat.

James let out a huff. 'Firstly, our _relationship _has already begun, at the ball two nights ago if you recall, and it continued on very nicely last night. It's just that I don't think we're going to get much further unless I can make her stay past midnight.'

Peter didn't quite suppress a laugh, and the eyes of all the others turned to him. He swallowed and turned his laughter into a cough. 'Sorry.'

'As I was saying,' James continued witheringly, 'secondly, I'm not_ trapping_ her. I just want to stop her from being able to run off again.'

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. 'James, that is practically the _dictionary definition_ of trapping her.'

'Holy mother of Merlin, will you three shut up about this? _I know what I'm doing_. Now: what does each of you have to do tonight?' He glowered around at them, arms folded across his chest.

Peter cracked first. 'I'll be by the doors; when she comes in, I'll go down and close the main gates and stay at the gatehouse.'

'I'll be with you.' Sirius rolled his eyes. 'Obviously. Once she's come in and you've gone to ask her to dance, I'll slip out and put a sticking charm on the main staircase.'

'And I'll be running interference with the staff.' Remus sounded very much like he didn't appreciate this particular task. 'And keeping everyone in the ballroom _away_ from the main staircase.'

'Excellent.' James smiled at them all. 'See? We've got everything covered.'

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She was in cream tonight. Layers of light cream silk that fluttered as she walked. He liked it better than the gold or silver of the previous two balls; it made her pale skin more luminous, her red hair more vivid.

He'd seen her the moment she'd stepped foot through the door, as if his eyes had been pulled directly to her by some unknown force, and though he'd never admit it to his friends he'd breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her making her way into the room. He'd walked straight across the ballroom to her, barely registering the people he passed, not that it mattered; they weren't important.

He'd probably mortally offended whoever he'd been talking to at the time she'd entered – he wasn't even sure who they were now he came to think of it – but Remus would probably smooth things over for him.

Not that James cared very much right now; she was right here in his arms, and they circled the room together through song after song, and the rest of the party was a distant haze.

He could see the green of her eyes behind her mask. He knew the exact shape of her hand in his, and the curve of her waist where his hand rested. He'd memorised the movements of her mouth, the shapes it made as she spoke or laughed.

But he didn't know who she was.

He turned them the other way, and circled them around the floor and off to one side until they were half hidden behind a large drape, and he instantly gripped her waist gently and pulled her towards him.

'Why won't you tell me your name?'

Her face lit up in that smile he'd become unreasonably attached to in the space of three nights. 'Because it's not important.'

'It is to me. I don't know what to call you.'

'Pick one then.'

'I can't. I can't think of one that would describe you.' He couldn't imagine a single name that he could apply to her that wouldn't seem ridiculous.

'That's not what names do.'

'Yours should.'

There was that smile again, fleeting but brilliant and despite his frustrations with her he couldn't help the answering smile that spread across his face.

And then he kissed her, without a thought to propriety, to his good name or hers.

And she kissed him back, her hand sliding up to the back of his neck as they clung to each other behind the hanging drape that concealed them from the rest of the ball.

Then from somewhere in the room the clock struck twelve, and just as he knew she would she stepped out of his embrace and her head spun around to face the clock, the worry etching itself across her face.

He caught her hand as she turned back to him, her features set in an expression of apology.

'Don't. Don't do this.'

'I'm sorry. I have to.'

She ran, and he had to admire her light-footed grace as she rushed between twirling couples towards the double doors of the ballroom. He moved after her as swiftly as he could, but he was hampered by being larger and finding it harder to slip between people; out of the corner of one eye he could see Remus doing a sterling job of keeping everyone's attention away from the fact that the Prince was once again rushing out of his own ball, and he just hoped that his other two friends had done their jobs as well.

She wasn't too far ahead of him; he could just about see the cream silk of her dress shimmering as it caught flickers of candlelight as she ran down the corridor. He was vaguely aware that Remus was catching up behind him, but he paid his friend no attention as he rushed to catch up with her.

He arrived at the top of the grand staircase to find her standing the foot of the stairs, her chest heaving and her eyes enraged as she looked up at him. Her heeled shoes were clutched in one hand, her dress held up by the other, and Sirius lay on the floor on her right, unmoving. James stared at her with horror as she stood over his best friend.

'A sticking charm? A sticking charm!? How dare you?!' A flush rose in her pale cheeks as she raged at him, and though he wanted to move to her something held him in place.

'You have no right! What makes you think you could keep me here against my will? I wish I had never laid eyes on you, you, you…arrogant toerag!'

And with that as her parting shot, she threw one of her shoes at him and stormed out of the doors. He dodged the well-aimed footwear, and it tumbled to rest a few steps down from him. He began to make his way down the stairs, pausing to pick the discarded shoe up, his fingers tracing a pattern over the decorative stones as he descended.

He was aware of Remus coming up behind him as he continued his way down the stairs to Sirius.

'She's magical Remus. She must be. She recognised the sticking charm.'

'The thought had crossed my mind.' Remus pulled his wand out and revived Sirius, who sat bolt upright and stared around.

Seeing James, his confused expression turned into a scowl. 'Your girlfriend…first of all, your girlfriend is magical, and secondly, she has violent tendencies. She _stunned _me.'

'You let her stun you?' Remus asked, with a much straighter face than James thought he would have managed. Sirius glared up at him.

'It wasn't a question of "letting". I didn't know she was magical until she whipped a wand out from somewhere and broke the sticking charm on the stair. I was a bit gobsmacked to be fair, and besides, I'm not certain about the etiquette of fighting with girls, but I suspect it's not in the handbook of gentlemanly behaviour.'

Remus sighed. 'Well, if she broke the charm and got the jump on you, I'm going to say that there's next to no chance Pete managed to stop her at the gate. I'd better go and see what damage she's done there I suppose.'

He wandered out, leaving James sitting on the bottom step and Sirius still sprawled out on the floor alongside him.

'Now what genius?' Sirius let his head fall back on the floor. 'I think your mother will kill you if you throw _another_ party.'

James sighed. 'I very much doubt that she would come this time.'

'Blown it have you?'

'Maybe.'

James turned the shoe in his hands over and over, his eyes examining the stones, the stitching, the quality of the silk. A smile spread across his face.

'You know Sirius…these are very well made shoes. And very distinctive. I don't think there could be more than one pair of these in the kingdom.'

'James, we're not going to track a girl down using her shoes.'

Sirius opened his eyes and looked up to see his best friend grinning down at him. He spoke loudly and slowly. 'James. We are not going to track a girl down using her shoes.'

'Yes we are.' A cream silk shoe landed on Sirius' stomach, and he sat up to see James' back disappearing down the hallway. His voice echoed back. 'Bring the shoe Sirius!'

'I'll bring the fucking shoe.' Sirius muttered, clutching it to his chest as he staggered to his feet. 'He doesn't need the fucking shoe, he needs his head testing.'

He staggered off down the hallway after his best friend, shaking his head over the ridiculous scheme.

There was no way you could track someone down using their shoe.

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**So this is obviously Cinderella, but it's based on an older version of the story, in which Cinderella meets her Prince and runs away from the ball and he throws two more over the following nights in an attempt to see her again. On the third night, after she's run away twice, he has a servant smear tar over the steps and one of her shoes gets stuck rather than falls off. The ending, unsurprisingly, remains the same.**

**This prompt came from AU Jily week on Tumblr, and lots of other people wrote for that besides me, so if you enjoy Jily drabbles, check out jilyweek /dot/ tumblr /dot/ com**


	2. A Darcy By Any Other Name

**Prompt: Historical Jily  
**

**Rating: K**

**This is set in Regency England, and is roughly based around Pride and Prejudice. Because when the opportunity to combine OTPs arises,_ you take it_.**

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'This is ridiculous. This entire ball is just Lord Malfoy's way of bolstering his position. As if being a Malfoy married to a Black wasn't enough for that.' Lily turned her back on the room resolutely.

Marlene caught her discreetly by the arm and turned her gently back to face the ballroom. 'Just smile and nod politely.'

'That would be easier if _he_ wasn't here.'

Marlene's brow furrowed briefly, before she remembered that it wasn't ladylike to frown and smoothed it out. 'Who?'

'Mr Potter.' Lily ground the name out, and Marlene fought the urge to suppress a smile even as her eyes flicked around the room seeking the dark-haired man, and the man she knew would be with him.

'I thought he despised these things.' Her tone was light, but Lily heard the undertone of excitement in her voice, and no wonder. If Mr Potter was here, as she knew he was, then it could only be because Mr Black had chosen to attend.

'I believe he does. But I also believe that he enjoys making us all _very _aware of that fact at every possible opportunity.'

'Lily, I know you didn't exactly start your acquaintance with Mr Potter well, but don't you think he might not be _quite _so disagreeable as you think?'

'You think that because you only pay attention to Mr Black whenever they are in attendance at these gatherings. You do not have to suffer him.'

Marlene smiled at her friend's disgruntled expression. 'Your mother will be most unhappy if you allow her to see that countenance.'

Lily smiled widely and fluttered her eyelashes. 'Is this more agreeable?'

'Most certainly. If only you could keep it there for the next few moments, I would be much obliged.'

'Lord give me strength, they're coming this way aren't they?' Lily straightened up and settled her face into the most neutral countenance that she could manage.

'Miss McKinnon, Miss Evans, how delightful!' Mr Black's voice was, as usual, smooth, rich and tinged with warmth. Lily's opinion on the gentleman was impartial; he was charming certainly, but she was certain that there was more than a hint of rascal beneath that polished surface.

His friend however…Mr Potter was not in possession of her good opinion. He was largely insufferable at parties, where he associated only with those he was already familiar with, and his arrogance and pride were so excessive that they might as well be separate entities.

Not only that, but Lily was well aware of his less than generous dealings with Mr Snape, another gentleman of her acquaintance, and one who she was considerably fonder of.

She curtsied her acknowledgment of both gentleman, and stood in silence while she listened she listened to Marlene and Mr Black exchange significantly more than the pleasantries that the situation required.

She silently rebuked herself for her lack of attention though, when she realised that Marlene had smilingly taken Mr Black's arm, and was even now moving to join the next dance.

'Might I have the pleasure?' Mr Potter had turned to her and she found herself unable to avoid looking him in the eye. The unreasonably bright hazel eyes, set into an unreasonably handsome face with its solid lines, and framed by unreasonably thick black hair.

'I…would be delighted.' She wasn't entirely sure why she had said that, since she'd been planning on a much cooler response, but those had been the words that had come out, so she supposed she was stuck with them now.

She accepted his arm and followed him to join the dancers, both of them resolutely ignoring the stares and whispers. Oh, this would fuel the neighbourhood gossip for days, the unapproachable Mr Potter dancing with the vivacious Miss Lily Evans.

The music began, and they stepped towards each other and away again, forward and away, before turning to take the hand of the person next to them; Lily's hand was taken by Mr Black, who offered her an exceedingly charming, if not wholly sincere, smile, and she caught sight of Marlene beaming at Mr Potter out of the corner of her eye. What surprised her more was that she was certain that she saw Potter smile _back_.

So he knew how to, he just chose not to. Well, perhaps one could be provoked.

She turned back to him and took his hand, her feet moving neatly in the steps of the dance, long ago memorised and needing no real thought to perform. 'How are you enjoying dancing this evening Mr Potter? I note that you tend to favour not partaking.'

'It's certainly not my preferred method of passing the evening, but I can see its appeal on the appropriate occasion.'

'And what, pray tell, do you consider to be the appropriate occasion?'

'Every ten year anniversary of the coronation.'

She came very close to laughing at that. A hint that he might very possibly have a sense of humour under those many and varied layers of superiority. Well, wasn't he just an intriguing puzzle? Not one she was particularly inclined to solve, but since she was here for the duration of the tune…

'Such a shame. You are an excellent dancer.'

He raised his eyebrows at her before they were again both swept away by the other half of their strange quartet.

Her hand landed in his again, and he turned them both exceedingly smoothly; not a pause, nor a hint of a misstep.

'It's something that every gentleman learns, and possibly one of the things he needs least.'

'Oh? You don't consider being an accomplished dancer to be a pre-requisite of being a gentleman?'

'It is, because society demands it to be so. For how else would we waste our evenings if it weren't for the invention of dancing?' He quirked an enquiring eyebrow at her, and she found her interest in him rising unaccountably. Most people had no interest in this kind of conversation, save her father, and to be speaking so to a gentleman in the midst of other gentleman was disconcerting to be sure.

'Well, how should you_ choose _to waste it?' She enquired as she followed his lead through another series of quick steps around each other.

'Reading would be my preference. Conversation that is not small talk. Perhaps some billiards, cards, or even some music that isn't composed for the purposes of us frolicking around like fops.'

'Well then sir, our dance is coming to an end, so I will pose you my final question: If you dislike dancing so, why did you ask me?'

They came to a halt, their eyes locked on each other's, green and hazel attempting to come to an understanding.

'Because it afforded me a rare opportunity to speak with you, and there is almost no-one else in the room whom I would consider capable of sustaining a stimulating conversation.'

He bowed shortly and moved quickly away, leaving Lily dumbfounded, until Marlene looked away from Mr Black long enough to realise that her friend was standing unmoving in the middle of the congregating dancers, and rushed over to remove her.

Lily took her arm and allowed herself to be led away, repeating the word 'insufferable' under her breath.

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**A/N: A lovely reviewer pointed out that some of my text disappeared from my author's note yesterday, leaving you with no idea which website I was directing you to! I have altered it, and I hope FF doesn't decide to eat it this time, but I was suggesting that you visit ****jilyweek /dot/ tumblr /dot/ com** for many more drabbles by lots of amazing writers.


	3. Two Very Different Spiders

**********Prompt: Superheroes  
**

**********Rating: T**

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Stupid fucking suit. Why'd he ever think this stupid fucking suit was a good idea?

James pulled at the spandex – spandex, what a stupid fucking idea that had been – and cursed as he tried to peel the red and blue fabric away from his overly sweaty skin. It wasn't usually this difficult, but he was so incredibly tired after tonight's apartment fire that he felt like he barely had the strength to left his head, let alone perform the contortions necessary to get this idiotic disguise off. Not to mention that it wasn't exactly in one complete piece after tonight's little adventures.

When he finally managed to strip off the disgusting material, he threw it to the floor and heaved a sigh of relief, stretching his muscles out before reaching for his sweatpants. Christ, next time he designed a costume he was going to find a way to make it out of sweatpant material. What did they make sweatpants out of? Because it was a lot more comfortable than fucking spandex.

He swiped a towel from the en-suite and wiped off his face before draping it around his neck and leaving his bedroom.

He lived on his own, in his own apartment, and he still crept back in through the bedroom window after his extra-curricular activites. Maybe he ought to work on that. Then again, the neighbours would probably notice Spiderman wondering through their apartment building from time to time.

He'd wonder later how he failed to notice her; it was a testament to her skills he supposed, that she could remain so well-concealed in plain sight.

'Rough night.'

He span around, his eyes skittering all around the apartment until they settled on the outline of a figure, seated neatly in his armchair. The woman pushed herself up from her seat and moved towards him. He couldn't call it walking; it was more like _slinking_. She moved with an easy grace, but with all the threat of a coiled spring. Her hair was pulled off her face, but the dark red curls were barely tamed; he couldn't make out anything else about her in the dim light, except that she was wearing very tight-fitting jeans and a leather jacket.

'That apartment fire was tough. Fire fighters would never have managed on their own. You must have pulled out what, seventeen people?'

'Eighteen.' James corrected her. 'And a dog.' No point in denying anything; if she'd put it together, there was little he could do about it now, though he'd try to convince her to maintain her silence on the matter. That could actually be fun.

She suppressed her smile and nodded very slightly. 'Of course. Mustn't forget the dog.'

'Well, it might be a tiebreaker someday.' He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a beer. 'Can I interest you in a beer?'

She cocked her head to one side. 'You find me in your apartment, uninvited, and your response is to offer me a beer?'

'Well, kicking your ass would probably be considered rude.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'And impossible.'

'Careful. I like a challenge.'

She actually grinned at that. 'Me too.'

'So. Beer?'

She took the beer he offered, their fingers brushing briefly as it changed hands.

They both took sips in silence for a moment, before the redhead spoke again, her unusually bright green eyes locking onto his. 'My name's Lily. And I know yours is James, so don't bother.'

'There a last name to go with that, _Lily_?'

'None that you need to concern yourself with.'

He tilted his head to one side and smiled. Quick-witted, sharp and confident.

Perfect.

'Well then, _Lily_. What was it you wanted? I assume you didn't break into my apartment for a beer?'

'No.' She took another pull of her beer. 'I'm here to talk to you about something that needs people of your talents. Something called the Avenger's Initiative.'

'The Avenger's Initiative.' He repeated incredulously. 'Someone actually thought that was a good name for _anything_?'

She put her bottle down on the counter. 'The name is irrelevant. The purpose matters.'

'And that would be…?'

'To meet the challenges that others can't. To fight threats that can't be neutralised by conventional means.'

'Government?'

She smiled in a humourless sort of way. 'In a manner of speaking.'

'They're aware of me?'

'Did you honestly think they weren't?'

Well, this was bad. Not just one smart, mysterious woman who had him worked out, but an entire government organisation. Fuck.

'We know about you; we've chosen not to do anything about it because you aren't in anyway a problem of national security. You could, however, be an _asset _to national security. If you chose to be.'

'So, let me get this straight.' James rested his elbows on his kitchen island. 'You represent a shadowy quasi-governmental agency that is recruiting people with "special talents" for non-specified missions, that are vital to the national security of the nation, and you think I'm going to jump at the chance to join up?'

'No.' She smiled at him in an utterly humourless way, lips set in a thin line. '**_I _**expect you to decline, and then to offer me some tiresome puns and maybe ask me out.'

She moved towards him until her face was just an inch away from his. 'But you should think about this: _I know you, James Potter_. I know what drives you to do what you do. And I'm going to tell you that you'll achieve more with the Avengers than you ever could on your own. You want to wipe out your mistakes? We'll help you do it; we all have things we want to wipe out ourselves.'

She moved away from him before her words had had time to sink in, and she was halfway through the door by the time he'd found his voice.

'What about you? What do you want to wipe out?'

She turned in the doorway to face him for a moment, the light from the hallway lighting up her hair like a halo of fire, and he could see that she was sizing up whether to answer.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet. 'The red in my ledger.'

Then she was gone.

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**********A/N: So I'm sure everyone got that James was Spiderman and Lily was Black Widow here; this one was based partially on a Tumblr gifset.  
**


	4. Coffee and Bad Shirts

**************Prompt: Muggle coffee shop AU  
**

**************Rating: T**

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James tapped his fingertips on the countertop impatiently before he realised what he was doing and returned to compulsively checking his watch. He should never have stopped, he didn't have time and he knew it, but _God_, if he got to the office without a coffee, at least four people were getting fired in the first hour, and probably only one would deserve it.

He'd never thought he'd be anyone's boss; the closest he'd come was captaining the rugby team at Magdalen, and for a long time he'd thought that his future lay in professional sport. He'd certainly never thought that he'd end up at Potter, Black and Lupin, General Solicitors. But then again he'd never thought he'd see the day Remus became a TV personality. He snorted to himself at the thought of it –_ Professor_ Remus Lupin, rock star scientist explaining physics to the masses in his typically self-effacing way.

Mental.

Sirius on the other hand; well, publicist to the stars had probably always been on the cards, and Remus' rise to TV stardom had given his career a much-appreciated boost.

James' too actually. PBL was a well-known and respected firm, but the influx of famous clients that came with Remus had certainly helped to maintain their profile.

'Venti latte, extra shot.' The barista dropped the takeaway cup in front of him, and James reached for it like it was the elixir of life.

He shot a grin and a wink at the pretty blonde girl behind the till as he turned for the door, and it was probably his distraction that caused him to collide with the tall man just coming in.

The cup tipped, and James' found himself suppressing a relieved sigh as the entire contents slopped and spilled over the stranger's rather appallingly fitted shirt, rather than his Hugo Boss suit.

'Sorry, my mistake'

'Sorry?!' The man spluttered, his fingers plucking at the wet fabric. 'Look at my shirt!'

'I am.' James answered, his eyes raking over the unappealing shade of green. 'It's a very interesting colour.'

The stranger's sallow skin was slowly turning red with anger and his black eyes were narrowing; James knew the signs of an impending explosion of temper, of course he did, he was a damn lawyer, but since this guy was obviously going to freak out about this frankly trivial matter, he saw no need to waste his considerable talents trying to calm him down.

'It's ruined!'

'Frankly, I think it's an improvement; even coffee stained is better than that colour.' He commented, turning to dispose of his cup in the nearest bin. 'And I notice that you're not sorry that it took my cup of coffee to make the improvement.'

'Who the hell do you think you are…'

'In a hurry is what I am, so here's my card, send me the dry-cleaning bill. Or better, buy yourself a _new_ shirt, for the love of Christ not in that colour, and send me the bill.'

'You arrogant little…'

'Oh for heaven's sake Sev, he's offered to pay for it, what more do you want?'

The voice had a sharp edge of irritation, and he found himself curious to see its owner so he craned his neck slightly to see past the tall, extremely irritating owner of the hideous shirt.

And then he forgot about the shirt. And the coffee, and the meeting he was now twenty minutes late for. He may have forgotten his own name.

She wasn't tall, but she carried herself as if she was, and her hair fell in soft waves of the deepest red he'd ever seen. That would have been enough to pique his interest, but when she glanced at him to reveal eyes in the most absurdly magnificent shade of green he was sunk.

'Hello.' He offered his hand. 'Terribly sorry about that. I'm James. And you are?'

She glanced quickly, almost imperceptibly at "Sev" before taking his hand. 'Lily. Lily Evans. And this is Severus Snape.'

He looked back up at the dark-haired man and raised a critical eyebrow. 'Unusual name.'

Snape did nothing but glower, and James turned and offered his card to Lily instead. She plucked it from between his fingers and flexed it nervously in her hand as Snape turned incredulous eyes on her.

'You can't seriously accept…'

'Why not Sev?' Those green eyes flashed with temper, and James privately decided that this was totally, _one hundred percent_ worth missing his morning meeting for.

'He said sorry didn't he? He offered to pay for the shirt. What do you want from him? It's not like he can magic it away for you, or get in his sodding time machine and…'

'Lily, he's been a complete arse since the second…'

'He bumped into you, that's all…'

'Please.' Snape snorted. 'He's one of that PBL lot, probably did it on purpose…'

'Do you actually know how ridiculous you sound sometimes?'

Snape didn't seem to have an answer for that, he just stood and stared incredulously at her, then turned on his heel and stormed out.

Lily blew out a long breath as she turned back to James, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up the back of her neck.

'Sorry.' The embarrassment was clear in her voice now. 'He's a little…stressed right now.'

James nodded slowly. 'O-kay. Never mind. Just buy him a shirt would you? Buy two, whatever. Send me the bill.'

'Er, sure, of course I will.' She looked up at him again. 'I really am sorry about him; he's…a little irrational about your firm actually. He, er, works for Riddle and Malfoy.'

James laughed. 'Really? He works with that pair of crusty old tossers? Well, it would put a crimp in my mood that's for sure. And it would explain why he doesn't like PBL.'

'It's not just the professional rivalry.' Lily answered. 'I'm sure you know all about your firm's reputation for partying in a rather extreme way. He's come off the wrong end of your games a few times.'

James grinned at her. 'We work hard, we like to let off steam.'

'Hmm.' Lily hummed her disapproval. 'Not sure that means you need to act like eighteen year olds on your first unsupervised holiday.'

'Sorry about that.' James answered with a straight face. 'We'll work on it, I swear.'

She laughed then, and he liked the way it sounded and the way she didn't try and restrain it and be fucking ladylike like all those women that seemed to swarm around him and his friends these days.

'How did he know I worked for PBL?' He asked suddenly, realising that neither Snape nor Lily had looked at his card.

'It's monogrammed on your briefcase.'

He looked down as if he'd never seen it before. 'So it is.'

'Hmm. Anyway, I'm sure you're late for work, and I'd better go and see if I can calm Sev down…'

'Try chloroform.'

'Is that your_ legal_ advice?' She asked tartly, looking down at his card. 'Might need to brush up on some of the finer points of your legal knowledge…Mr Potter. Mr Potter. _Potter_, Black and Lupin.'

'I'm not that Mr Potter.' James offered helpfully. 'That would be my father.'

'I… said your employees acted like eighteen year olds on their first unsupervised holiday.'

'You did. Possibly the finest description of them that I've ever heard.'

He looked at his watch and mentally cursed. 'Sorry, I really am running disastrously late now. But Lily…' he trailed off, not wholly sure of what he wanted to say. 'I…wouldn't be sorry if you wanted to drop off the bill for the shirts in person. Maybe on Friday?'

'Friday huh?' A lazy grin spread across her face. 'Want me to bring it to your office?'

He smirked back at her. 'How about 7pm at the Dorchester? Sort of a…summit meeting. To open negotiations for my reparations for this morning.'

She looked at him for one long indecisive moment then answered in one long rush. 'I believe I can flex my schedule for you.'

'Excellent.' He gave her one last grin and headed out of the coffee shop, no longer in need of caffeine but in _desperate_ need of a cold shower.

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	5. Professor Potter

**********Prompt: Hogwarts AU  
**

**********Rating: M for SMUT, SMUT, NOTHING BUT SMUT. (Have you ever noticed how smut is an anagram of must? I'm sure that must mean something)**

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The corridor was packed, even for a Monday afternoon. Lily was absolutely certain that the Hufflepuff behind her had used the opportunity to cop a feel of her arse, but she was just about managing to resist the temptation to give him boils. Just about. Once more, and the boils were not only happening, they were going in a place he'd be too embarrassed to take to Pomfrey to be treated.

'Miss Evans.' The voice calling to her was loud and imperious, and more familiar than it ought to be. The figure it belonged to was overly tall, annoyingly clever and currently navigating his way through the seething mass of students towards her.

Of course, they get out of the way for_ him,_ she mused inwardly. Professor Potter, striding down the corridor, scattering all before him.

'I need to see you in my office please Miss Evans.' He strode past her with little more than a glance, and she turned to follow in his wake, pleased at least that she was no longer being battered by an assorted collection of schoolbags and elbows.

No-one looked twice at them. No-one ever did. It wasn't uncommon to find Lily and Professor Potter together; ever since she'd transferred in to finish her final year of school at Hogwarts she'd had a certain amount of private tutoring with him to bridge the gap in DADA, a subject that was often overlooked in other wizarding schools.

Even when she'd caught up with the class – which actually hadn't taken very long at all –she'd begun to spend time with him to help him prepare his classes. It was a lonely thing, being transferred into a class full of people who had known each other since they were eleven, and it was nice to be around someone who didn't give two damns about the six years' worth of gossip and interpersonal relationships she'd missed out on.

She watched the back of his head as she walked behind him, at that stupid black hair that stuck up in a hundred different directions, made worse by the amount of time his hand spent buried in it. It was longer now than it had been when she'd started the school year; it was obviously in serious need of a cut, but he apparently lacked either the time or the inclination. It curled up where it touched his collar.

She wanted to tug on it.

He swung the door of his empty classroom open and gestured her inside. She'd taken maybe two paces into the room when she heard the door slam, felt his hand catch her arm and then she was backed up against the nearest desk, head tilted back while he sucked and nipped his way across her neck, her hands buried in that ridiculous black hair just like she'd wanted.

'I'm assuming…that…you…missed me?' She managed the broken sentence between gasps, even as her legs came off the floor to wrap around him.

'I shouldn't have.' He spoke the words directly into the skin of her collarbone, his lips brushing the skin gently, maddeningly, as his unreasonably clever fingers worked their way down the buttons of her blouse, loosening her tie on the way. 'Firstly, because I only saw you this morning; and secondly, because I should _not_ be daydreaming about how you look naked when I'm supposed to be teaching my classes.'

'Why not? I think about what you look like naked when I'm supposed to be learning in mine.'

She wasn't entirely sure whether the sound that came from his throat was a groan or a growl, but either way it felt like it shot a bolt of heat straight through her and her hands left his hair to dive straight for the line of his shirt, tugging it out of his waistband so she could slide underneath and feel muscle and skin.

Her legs tightened around him and pulled him closer, and his head trailed a line of nips and kisses down her throat and to her chest until he was eye-level with her breasts and felt free to release his hands from them and give his mouth free reign.

Those clever, nimble fingers danced over her ribcage, across her waist and down to her thighs, sliding over the skin where it brushed against his shirt and eliciting a shudder from her.

She felt feverish, but that wasn't unusual; he always managed to make her quake and shudder under him with a few simple strokes. He was always heat and strength, and in a world where she felt the constant pressure to be strong and smart he made her feel not only wonderfully, foolishly stupid but also all fluttery and female, like everybody said you shouldn't be, not these days; it wasn't how modern women were, but fuck it, he made her mind wipe itself clean of everything but him and she _didn't care_.

Those hands were under her skirt now, teasing her knickers down her legs - which released their grip on him only long enough to allow the useless clothing to be discarded - and her hands were fumbling for his belt buckle and it felt like only seconds later that he slid into her and everything was pressure and warmth and those long smooth strokes that he knew drove her crazy because they just weren't enough when she was thrown across a desk in his classroom.

But they'd been doing this for weeks now, and she knew him just as well as he knew her, so she pulled his face up to hers and sank them both into a kiss before trailing her lips along the side of his face and nipping his earlobe between her teeth.

His hands clenched on her hips as he lifted her from the desk and spun her around until she was pressed up against the wall, and he was moving faster and harder while her nails raked down his back and her tongue flicked over his ear until they both crashed over the edge and then slumped into each other.

'So,' Lily managed, 'you've missed me today then?'

James' only response was to kiss the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She smiled as she ran a hand through his hair again.

'Only seventy-nine more days.' She said quietly, and he raised his head to look at her.

'Damn school year is too long.'

'You could quit.'

'You could leave.'

'Or we could wait the seventy-nine days and leave together.'

He pressed his forehead to hers. 'Seventy-nine days.'

'I'm looking forward to the scandal.'

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	6. The End Of The World

**********Prompt: Zombie Apocalypse  
**

**********Rating: T**

**********A/N: I feel it's only fair to say up front that this is my least favourite from Jily week, and is extremely unlikely to be continued.**

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'Get the door, I'll check the windows!' Lily didn't even stop for breath as she crossed the room at breakneck speed, rushing straight towards the windows and checking that the precautions they'd taken earlier were still in effect.

James busied himself with the door, sealing it and adding as many protective enchantments as he could. Inferi were difficult to deal with; they may have been unthinking, ravening corpses, but they were also all but indestructible. They felt no pain, had next to no sense of fear, could not be convinced to turn back, to surrender.

They could only be ended, and then only by one means. And both Potter's were sick of the stench of burning, rotting flesh filling their nostrils.

The mission had been a disaster, like most of the others they'd undertaken recently. Voldemort's army of inferi had spread across the country like a plague; even the muggles were aware that something was very, very wrong, though they were labouring under the misapprehension that they were seeing the effects of a deadly virus that caused psychosis in its victims.

Neither the Ministry nor the Order had seen any point in disabusing them of the notion. It was as good an explanation as any other, and it had the desired effect anyway. The muggles kept up the only precautions that would help against inferi; they barricaded themselves in their homes, travelled in groups and kept a watchful eye at all times when they were outside.

It would have to be enough.

'Done.' Lily turned away from the window, and he could barely see her in the dark of the sealed room, the only illumination the glowing tips of their wands.

'Make some light would you love?'

The few candles in the room burst into light, and the two of them stood silently for a moment as they allowed their hearts to stop racing. They'd run a good half mile back to the safe-house; they'd fought off as many inferi as they could, but spell-casting was tiring after a while, and there had been a solid wall of corpses between them and their objective.

There always was. Sheer superiority in numbers was winning Voldemort this war, even if his numbers were made up of the reanimated dead.

James dropped onto the shabby sofa. 'I wonder how the others are doing.'

Lily joined him and tucked herself into the crook of his arm. 'Better than we did hopefully.'

James took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes tiredly. 'I hope so to. We have to get into _one _of his safehouses. What in the name of Merlin could he want to protect so badly that he'd use so many inferi to defend it?'

Lily shuddered. 'I'm not sure I want to know.'

'I didn't think there was anything he cared about that much, save for himself obviously.' James twiddled a lock of her hair around his finger and tried to forget just for the time being that the streets outside their door were filled with undead monsters, that people were dying, daily, as part of Voldemort's insane drive for power. Certainly, by the time he was done he might well be ruler of the whole damn country, but there'd be no_ people_ left in it to rule.

'I didn't really think it would ever come to this.' Lily's voice was quite in the dimly lit room.

'What's that love?'

'I knew it would be tough, I knew things were going to get bad, but I never thought we'd be barricading ourselves into abandoned buildings to avoid inferi, never thought we'd be this helpless while muggles are slaughtered. I thought we'd stop him before it got this bad. It feels like the end of the world.'

James kissed the top of her head, even as him arm tightened around her. 'It's not. I promise it's not.'

They both stiffened as the unmistakable silver glow of a patronus burst through the wall before sliding to an ungraceful halt in front of them. The great shaggy dog stared at them as it spoke its message in Sirius' familiar tones.

'Need help. Target three. Quickly.'

'Oh, well _shit_.' James was on his feet and moving over to the door to remove his sealing spells.

'Should we…we're not supposed to intervene in each other's missions James.'

He stopped his motions, but kept facing away from her, his eyes fixed on the door. 'I know Lil. But it's _Sirius._ He's…I can't leave him to whatever it is he's facing, anymore than I could not come to you if you needed me.'

She bit her lip anxiously. 'I know. I just…'

'Don't want to mess up any of Dumbledore's plans.' He began moving his wand in his intricate rune patterns again. 'I understand, I do. But if their mission has gone so badly wrong that they need help…'

'Then we need to go, you're right.' She was stood beside him now, wand out and ready as he waited to open the door. He made eye contact, waited for her nod and then flung the door open while she kept her wand trained on the doorway; it had been a recent addition to their security, but a necessary one since the day they had opened the door and found an inferius immediately outside.

There hadn't been one in this building since then, but the Order were all long past taking any chances.

They stepped outside and Lily kept careful watch while James resealed the door. He straightened up and turned to face her. 'Ready?'

She nodded, and in perfect sync with each other they apparated.

The second they felt dizzying motion of apparition stop, they threw themselves to the ground; standard procedure when apparating into fights now, to avoid taking stray curses.

They both lifted their heads and gaped at the scene; it seemed that Remus, Sirius and Peter had gotten all the way to the front door of the ornate manor house they'd been trying to infiltrate before the inferi had closed in, and now their backs were pressed to the locked front door while a mass of at least thirty of the undead moved implacably closer and closer to them.

They could see no Death Eaters though, which was a small mercy; inferi were exhausting to fight, but at least they weren't clever, bloodthirsty and cruel, as so many of Voldemort's lieutenants were.

'Left or right?' James whispered in Lily's ear.

'I'll take right, you go left. Do you think we can fight our way through?'

James shook his head. 'Doubt it. But if we can get some of the ones at the back to turn and fight us instead that should buy them some breathing space.'

'Okay. Love you.'

'Don't do that. We're getting out of this. But I love you too.' He kissed her briefly and then rose into a crouch and moved to the left of the crowd of inferi. She watched him go for a second longer than she should have, then she rose and moved right.

They both began at almost exactly the same time, casting incendio, confringo, anything that caused flame and light. They could both see the ring of light surrounding the three figures of their friends, and they knew that they had adopted the standard auror practice for dealing with inferi, as taught to them by Frank; one person produced wave after wave of flame to create a barrier, and the others tried to pick off the inferi with directed curses.

It was much easier without any Death Eaters present; no spells to dodge. The only thing to worry about was the dreadful reach of the rotting bodies, the mouldering arms reaching out to grab and rip at flesh.

It seemed like they'd been fighting for hours when exhaustion finally caused a grave error; James wasn't quite quick enough, and an inferius raked its nails down his wand arm, making him bellow in pain and lose his grip on his wand.

Lily was moving towards him before she even had time to think; she leaped over burned bodies and threw hexes indiscriminately.

She landed next to James and conjured flames around the two of them. They'd only last a moment, but every moment bought was precious.

'Pass me my wand, I'm fine.'

She almost snarled at him. 'You can't even close your hand to grip it.'

'I can try. I'll use my other hand.'

'Don't be such a fucking hero! We'll…we'll think of something to get us all out of here. Just…give me a minute, I'll think of something, I'll…' She trailed off on a broken sob.

'Lily…Lily, don't…'

They were both knocked flat to the ground by a sudden roar of flames, and the fire that poured over the massed group of inferi formed shapes, eagles, dragons, chimeras as it rushed and swirled through the main body of the creatures.

Lily's shocked eyes met James' briefly, before she turned her attention back to keeping the inferi away from them.

'Please tell me that Sirius did _not_ just cast fiendfyre!'

'Er…Sirius did not just cast fiendfyre?' James managed weakly.

'The stupid arse.' She growled as she lit up another two inferi. 'Does he even know how to control it?'

'Maybe?'

'Oh for fuck's sake.'

There were no inferi near them now, and the heat was far too much for them to bear so they backed away, their eyes locked on their friends in the midst of the fire, protected from it by what looked like hasty partis temporus charms from Remus and Peter.

It seemed to go on forever, but it could not have been more than a few moments before the cursed fire had rendered every inferius a charred ruin of a body. The fire animals disappeared, and Sirius moved towards them, Remus and Peter in his wake.

'Thanks Prongs, Lil. Getting a little close for comfort till you arrived.'

'Fiendfyre Padfoot?' James' eyebrows rose as he looked at his best friend with a certain amount of exasperation.

Sirius shrugged. 'Desperate times.'

Lily snorted, and he grinned at her cheerfully. 'So,' he continued, 'anyone else interested in exactly what they were guarding in there?'

The five of them turned to look at the house, their apprehension mounting.

'Well, we came this far.' Remus said sombrely.

'We don't have much of a choice. No-one has gotten near a Death Eater stronghold before. We have to risk it.' Lily didn't take her eyes off the house as she spoke, but she was grateful when she felt James' hand enclose hers.

'In we go then.' He squeezed her hand gently in support.

They walked towards the house, hoping that they might find something that heralded the beginning of the end of this apocalyptic nightmare.

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	7. What A Tangled Web We Weave

**********Prompt: Disney Crossover (There are absolutely no points for guessing the Disney film, it's pretty obvious from the start)**

**********Rating: K**

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The palace guards were halfway decent, which was an unpleasant surprise. Dodging crossbow bolts was _not _James' favourite pastime. It was not normal for hired guards to be this persistent; they usually chased you a few hundred yards and then gave up, either too lazy or too unfit to pursue much further, at least in his – rather extensive – experience they did.

Coming across guards who would not only chase you out of the palace but through the city and into the woods was something he could have done without. Still, at least he'd managed to ditch those two morons he'd called partners for a brief period of time. With any luck the guards would find them and become too preoccupied with their catch to chase him.

Though that was doubtful, given that he still had the diadem.

And anyway, even if they did give up, those bloody wanted posters were strewn across the country, not that they looked like him, bloody incompetent artists.

Besides, the guards themselves were the least of his problems right now; he'd settle for getting away from this _sodding horse_. He was crouching behind a rock, and he could hear the lunatic beast prowling around nearby, and he was sure it wouldn't be long until it found him; he moved towards the cliff behind him, wondering if he could hide himself in the greenery that hung down its face.

James pressed himself against the face of the cliff and tried to slip behind the vines, when to his utter shock he fell through the tangle of foliage into a hidden cave. Barely a moment later the outline of the horse was shadowed on the hanging vines, and he stayed perfectly still, not even breathing until he was certain the mad creature had passed by.

He rose to his feet and walked through the cave, realising that it opened out into a small canyon, totally concealed by the cliffs that surrounded it. There was a tower in the middle of it, which was a bit of a head-scratcher because who the hell would want to live all the way out here? Still, a hiding place was a hiding place, and who was he to ignore serendipity?

He pulled a small pick out of his pack and began to scale the outside of the tower; it took much longer than he thought, and James felt a ridiculous sense of relief when he tumbled through the little window into the tower.

Or at least he did until something hit him in the head.

He'd experienced nothing in his life more unpleasant than being woken by a chameleon sticking its tongue in his ear. His eyes darted around the room as he took in his situation; he was in a circle of light in a darkened room, he was tied to a chair by an unseen assailant, and he was in a remote tower in a hidden canyon.

Should be interesting to see how this one played out.

'I'd stop struggling if I was you.' There was something odd about the voice, though he wasn't certain what it was.

'You won't be able to get the bonds off.' The voice continued calmly. 'Believe me.'

'Then what do I have to do to get out of them?' James asked calmly.

There was no response, and for a moment he wondered if his captor had left, but then a silhouette appeared on his right, and as it slowly moved into the light it became a beautiful young woman.

She was around his age, red-headed and pale, and she had astoundingly green eyes. She looked confident, until you looked closer and saw the nerves showing themselves in a thousand little ways.

'Tell me how you found this place.' Like that barest hint of a tremble in her voice.

'I'd assume Fate?' He suggested, offering her his most charming smile. 'I'm James Potter, and I have to believe that it had to be some shared destiny that brought me to you…'

'Spare me.' She interrupted, rolling her eyes. 'I'd like an answer, not an attempt to date me.'

'An accident.' James answered smoothly, pleased that he had the opportunity to tell at least partial truths; it was much easier to sell a story that had some basis in reality. 'I was being chased, I needed to hide, and I stumbled into this place.'

He suddenly recalled the diadem, and began to crane his neck as he looked around.

'Looking for your crown?'

'Diadem.' He corrected. 'And yes actually, it's rather important.'

'Is that so.' She leaned against the wall and pretended to examine her nails. 'You'll be wanting it back then.'

'That would be lovely.' James answered. 'But then again, so would untying me.'

'Hmmm.' She moved towards him slightly. 'Then I suggest a trade. You know, since there is absolutely no way that you'll be able to find it without my help.'

'Listen, Red…'

'Lily.'

'Whatever. Listen, I don't have time for games, I really,_ really_ need to get that diadem.'

'And you can have it.' Lily announced. '_After_ you've done something for me; take me to see what it is that lights up the sky to the North. The green lights that make a shape.'

He started at that, though he covered it well. If she could see Voldemort's magical signals, then_ she_ was magical. If she didn't know what she was seeing though, then she almost certainly didn't _know_ she was magical. He'd have to bluff this as best he could anyway, just in case.

'Why don't you just take yourself?'

She looked down. 'I don't know the way, or how long it would take or _anything_. I haven't left this tower since I was 11.'

He was aware that his shock showed on his face. 'Why not?'

She wrapped her arms around her waist and stared into the distance. 'Severus says that it's dangerous for me to go out there. Something to do with who my parents were.'

'And Severus would be…?'

'My friend.' She answered quietly. 'He said my parents made him my protector; when they were killed, he brought me here and hid me. He said people would pursue me, because of who my parents were. He brings me food, books, whatever I need.'

'But he doesn't let you leave.'

She turned back to him. 'He's just worried; he says that the world is too dangerous for me.'

'He might be right.' The first full truth he'd told her. She was magical, and she didn't appear to know it. Someone had gone to some trouble to hide her – by magical means, he realised now, the entrance to the canyon had been much too well-concealed – so there was a reason for that. Taking her out into the world was a big risk for _her_; taking her so close to Voldemort's stronghold was a big risk for _him_.

But there was no way he could tell her to stay well clear of those lights without explaining what they were, and he probably shouldn't do that until he knew more about why she was locked in a tower, so he should knock her out and….oh damn it. He hadn't considered accidental magic. That was why the bonds tying him to the chair were so strong; she'd magically reinforced them without realising she was doing it. If she was doing that kind of thing, then she had almost certainly added magical enhancement when she'd hidden the diadem.

The possibility of him getting out of magical bonds, stupefying her safely and then successfully locating the diadem was extremely slim. Especially when he had no way of assessing how advanced her magic might be. Although, he thought as he flexed his wrists, the bonds were _extremely_ tight and strong, which suggested a lot of raw power at the very least.

Okay then. One option left; gain her co-operation. He wasn't one of the best Order operatives for nothing.

'But I can take you to see them. And then we come back, and you give me back the diadem.'

She smiled at him, and he felt no guilt for his lies.

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**A/N: To be honest, this was hard to write but it also made me extremely happy because I got to put Severus Snape in the role of Mother Gothel. **


	8. Old Chasers and Young Seekers

**Prompt: AU where James and Lily live and go to see Harry in his first game of quidditch at Hogwarts.**

**Rating: T**

**A/N: Fair warning, there's no way I'm writing an entire 'Jily survives' AU, so you won't be seeing anything more than some additional one-shots for this one.**

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'You do know that he's going to be immensely embarrassed by this don't you?' The words were spoken laughingly, but James knew Lily well enough after twelve years of marriage to recognise the undertone of worry.

He pulled her closer and dropped her hand in favour of wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they strolled up the lane from Hogsmeade. 'Come on love, you know that's not true. He'll _pretend_ to be embarrassed, but you know he'll be glad that we're here. Remember how nervous he was when we put him on the train? He'll probably be even worse today.'

Lily gave him a sideways glance. 'And this has nothing to do with you being eager to relive your glory days on the Quidditch field of course?'

James gave her a look of mock injury and slapped a hand over his heart. 'Lily, I'm truly hurt.'

'Yeah, yeah.' She stopped and stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. Whatever her worries that she would be inadvertently upsetting her son, if she was honest she was thrilled to be at Hogwarts to watch him play. She missed seeing him fly, seeing the fierce joy on his face as he swooped through the air, his movements and expressions so like his father's.

'We could relive a few memories while we're here.' He murmured the words into her ear as his hands feathered over her sides.

She pulled away to look up at him scathingly. 'McGonagall gave us special permission to be here because our son is the _youngest seeker in a century_, but that does not mean that she won't revoke it if she catches us snogging under the Gryffindor stands.'

His lips came down on the soft patch of skin just below her left ear. 'Who said anything about snogging? I had something else in mind.'

'I just bet.' Lily's head tilted back to allow James' lips to glide over her skin more easily. Twelve years of marriage, and he still made her feel like a stupid teenager at least once a day, reckless and stupid and full of _feelings _that she didn't quite understand and never fully had the measure of.

His lips were drifting a gentle path along her jawbone, clogging up her senses and making her thoughts fuzzy. The reasons for not snogging – or anything else James had in mind – under the stands were growing dimmer in her head, burnt away a little more with every soft caress of his lips.

He'd always been able to this to her, _always_, and you'd think she develop some sort of immunity to it but instead time had simply honed his abilities, and he used his talent for rendering her incoherent shamelessly to his advantage.

She was just contemplating suggesting that maybe his idea about reliving their school days – at least the last few months of them - might have _some _merit when a booming voice greeted them.

'James. Lily.' Hagrid wandered past, heading for the school gates and apparently totally unfazed by the sight of the two of them in the middle of the road. 'Nice ter see yer. 'Ere to see yer boy play? 'E's a natural tha' one.'

Hagrid kept walking, but his interruption brought Lily back to her senses and she whacked James across the back of the head as she backed out of his embrace.

'Ow! Bloody Merlin woman, what was that for?'

'For exploiting my weaknesses Potter.' She pointed an admonitory finger at him. 'We agreed you'd only use your powers for good, remember?'

'It _would_ have been good.' James sulked. 'I'm willing to bet it would have been bloody _fantastic _actually.'

'Shame you'll never get to find out then.' Lily marched off towards the school gates, and after a moment James trailed after her, muttering to himself about violent wives and half-giants with bad timing.

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	9. Rare Kisses

**********Prompt: Drabble based on this post: .com (/) post (/) 63950076095**

**********Rating: T**

**********A/N: This is 100% a one-shot, no follow ups!**

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Sometimes it seemed more like a dream than reality. The red-haired girl who threw her head back when she laughed, who could drink even Sirius under the table without a second thought, who fought with ferocity and focus and then cried over her fallen companions when the fight was done, had _always _been too good to have been real.

The girl he'd kissed in a London park under a night sky and a cold half-moon, his hands hesitantly on her hips as he brought his mouth down on hers. He'd felt her pulse stutter, felt her body stiffen slightly before he felt her lips curve up under his, felt her hands slide around the back of his neck and into his hair to twine strands of it around her fingers. His heart had been pounding an unknown rhythm behind his ribs, and if his hands had touched her bare skin their clamminess would have betrayed his nerves.

She was gone the next day. They wouldn't tell him where; the Order was notoriously close-mouthed, even with its own members. Paranoia was a hallmark of a society at war.

The first week afterwards, he'd been drunk. Blind, stinking drunk. He wouldn't have had any idea how long that stage of his depression had lasted if it hadn't been for Remus yelling at him as he sobered him up by dunking him repeatedly in a fountain. If the water hadn't done its job, the cold of the November air once he'd been released most certainly had. He'd been shut up in his room with a lousy cold for the fortnight following that, and then when he'd emerged from his room, he'd gone down a different path of self-destruction.

He couldn't count the number of women he'd kissed over the next few months, but then he couldn't remember any of their names either. They were a dull, meaningless blur of blonde, brunette, blue eyes, brown eyes, pale skin, tanned skin. And they were all pale, washed out, and empty compared to _her._

So he'd stopped. He knew that Sirius, Remus and Peter all watched him constantly, waiting for him to fall back into drinking or debauchery, but he poured his effort and energies into his Order work instead, as he should have done from the start.

He ran more missions than anyone else, did more research, more reconnaissance. He didn't sleep more than four hours a night, because sleep brought dreams, and he lost weight thanks to his complete lack of appetite, but at least he wasn't imploding anymore.

Until four days ago.

When he'd walked into a room at Headquarters, and green eyes in a pale face had sought him, found him. When he'd seen that mass of red hair, curling at the ends just like he remembered. When that mouth that he'd kissed so fiercely, that he'd spent months trying to wipe out and replace with the memory of another, had lifted just ever so slightly at the corners. He'd turned around instantly and walked out, pushing past his friends, barely seeing the other Order members as he left the building without a coherent thought in his head.

He'd thought that he'd be okay today, thought he'd be able to walk into the room where she was and be fine with it, but one glimpse of her had been enough to send him on his heels, straight back out the door he'd just come through and heading down the street with no clear destination in mind.

It was ridiculously perverse, that he'd spent so long wishing for her, and now he couldn't spend two seconds with her because just looking at her _hurt _somewhere deep in his chest.

'James!'

He heard her – he thought he would have heard her from the other side of the world, if she'd so much as whispered his name – but he didn't stop, he just kept putting one foot in front of the other.

'James! I'm sorry!'

She caught up with him then, passing him at a jog and stopping dead in front of him, her hands coming up to his chest to brace themselves against him and force him to stop and face her.

'I'm sorry, but you know what it's like, _you know_, they tell you what to do, and you do it, _and I wasn't allowed to tell you. _I wanted to, for the first time ever I questioned where my loyalties lay, _because of you_. I…I…'

She stopped talking then, and James thought she had simply run out of breath, but apparently that _wasn't _the case, since she launched herself at him.

Her mouth landed on his, and in the instant of that first brush of lips the last several months dissolved and he was back in that London park, feeling her mouth on his for the first time, and nothing else mattered; not her long absence, not the Order meeting they were missing, not the self-abuse he'd dished out to his body when she wasn't there anymore.

Her hands clung to his upper arms, his fingers wound into her hair, and they pressed against each other, their bodies lining up as easily as they had on that November night, and he thought that he would never fit anyone else, never _want _anyone else like he wanted her.

They didn't make it to the meeting. They didn't make it to Headquarters the next day either, not even when Moody sent an irritable patronus; they weren't going anywhere for the time being, not when she asked if she could kiss him again and the only word he could find was 'yes'. They were owed some lost time after all.

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